..."
His voice broke. The Missioner's face had gone white. They went back
into the moonlight again, so that they should not awaken the woman.
* * * * *
Out there, so close that they seemed to be in each other's arms, the
stories were told, David's first--briefly, swiftly; and when Michael
O'Doone learned that his daughter was in David's camp, he bowed his face
in his hands and David heard him giving thanks to his God. And then he,
also, told what had happened--briefly, too, for the minutes of this
night were too precious to lose. In his madness Tavish had believed that
his punishment was near--believed that the chance which had taken him so
near to the home of the man whose life he had destroyed was his last
great warning, and before killing himself he had written out fully his
confession for Michael O'Doone, and had sworn to the innocence of the
woman whom he had stolen away.
"And even as he was destroying himself, God's hand was guiding my
Margaret to me," explained the Missioner. "All those years she had been
seeking for me, and at last she learned at Nelson House about Father
Roland, whose real name no man knew. And at almost that same time, at Le
Pas, there came to her the photograph you found on the train, with a
letter saying our little girl was alive at this place you call the Nest.
Pages:
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372
373
374
375